Anastasia
I arrived at the restaurant Atticus had chosen, looking forward to seeing him and his husband outside of work like the good old days.
A smartly-dressed waiter welcomed me into the restaurant with a polite smile. “Welcome to Lemon, do you have a reservation?”
I gave him Dimitri’s name who we booked things under. Too many restaurants tipped off the paparazzi when they knew we were eating there.
He nodded and presented me with his tablet. “Please sign the waiver before you enter.”
“Waiver?” I raised an eyebrow.
“It’s an agreement to prohibit any guests from taking and publishing any pictures or videos from inside the restaurant. We understand that discretion and privacy is paramount to our diners,” he explained with practised ease.
That explained why Dimitri had chosen a rest
